


around us

by lamphouse



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Engagement, M/M, Missing Scene, Rings, Season/Series 05, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, the only angst is in david's head and even then it's bare minimum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 21:36:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19048894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamphouse/pseuds/lamphouse
Summary: "You don't have a ring."Patrick blinks, his mind visibly buffering. "Well, that's what the wedding's for."





	around us

They've been engaged for less than seventy-two hours before David finds something to worry about. Granted, it's something relatively innocuous even he can't catastrophize into a capital-I issue, but once he finds it he can't ignore it. The anxiety metal detector in his brain squeaks and whirs and he has no choice but to dig and dig until he finds the rusted bottle cap or whatever the fuck fits that metaphor.

Patrick doesn't have a ring, and he definitely wants one. Maybe not consciously—he hasn't said anything, and Patrick's usually pretty good about that kind of thing—but he does, underneath, and it's driving David crazy trying to figure out a way to bring it up.

It makes sense, kinda. Though David is not much a jewelry person in general, when he finds something he loves, he loves it forever. His rings are an extension of him, and knowing that Patrick knows that makes it that much more meaningful when he first takes off the silver set one by one only to replace it with the gold. They aren't flashy, but they are bright—they call attention to themselves just as much visually (both the contrast of warm tones against his monochromatic wardrobe and of the shine against his fingers when they catch the light) as they do symbolically.

Patrick, on the other hand, is clean and simple. He doesn't even do patterns, let alone accessories. Patrick is Patrick, and Patrick is wonderful, but David still sees the way he looks at their hands clasped together over the bedspread and the way he gently traces a finger around one of the silver rings on the nightstand.

That's when David thinks of it. They're trading showers the third morning of their engagement, David combing fingers through his wet hair and Patrick, unaware, thoughtfully tipping a ring on its edge. One of their phone dings on the desk and Patrick looks up to see him waiting in the doorway.

The morning carries on but not before David sinks into the spot Patrick had left and slips one of the rings at random into his pocket when the water stops in the other room.

He thinks about it pretty much constantly after that. He can't help it; he starts developing, like, a Pavlovian response to Patrick's bare fingers, putting an inordinate amount of mental effort into trying to picture just what it would look like.

David feels every sublimated fifties-swooning-steadies-milkshake courtship urge claw up at his throat but oh _god_ does he wants to see Patrick wear his ring. Yes, he knows he will, eventually. That's sort of the point. It's just...

Sometimes his hand catches the light and the rings shining feel like  _him_ shining, and if he can, he wants to make that happen for Patrick too.

Whether it's this added want or the general buzz of engagement, David is kinda worried he might be going out of his mind. It's like he's opened the emotional throttle and everything is shiny and tender and way too much. Patrick brings him coffee in his favorite mug and David's heart almost explodes; they catch each other's eye across the store and he can practically hear the gentle piano of the romcom epilogue score in the background. The past couple of years are suddenly nothing in comparison to the way his not-so-secret inner Hopeless Romantic breaks through in every grin and gesture.

It's _exhausting_.

"Everything okay?"

David didn't hear the door but when he looks up Patrick is already unwrapping his dinner at the counter. They're staying late to set out the new line of goat's milk soaps that arrived that afternoon, something that inexplicably makes the happiness monster in David's chest squirm. He was going to think of a clever way to do this, something hopefully half as memorable as Patrick's proposal, but it all goes flying out of his mind after a second of a moment he can't wait to relive, every day in little ways, for the rest of their lives.

"You don't have a ring."

Patrick blinks, his mind visibly buffering. "Well, that's what the wedding's for."

"No, but—" David almost trips over his own feet to get to the front of the store before Patrick notices this is more than a casual chat. He can feel the cool weight of the ring in his pocket and he pulls it out, almost without noticing, to illustrate his point. "You don't have an engagement ring."

When his eyes catch on the ring, Patrick laughs a little in his disbelieving way. "David..."

"You got me all these beautiful rings, and I love them, I really do, but." David pauses to breathe. "I wanted to do that for you too."

"Is that one of yours?" Patrick's voice comes out small and pleased, and David can't help the way his eyes widen in response, like if he keeps them open long enough he can commit every detail to memory (as well as fight off tears).

"Not for long, hopefully," he manages to get out without losing it. "Patrick, I—"

"David—"

One of David's pointer fingers jerks out, forcefully but carefully nowhere near hitting Patrick's face. "Shush. You got to do a whole thing, and the announcement kept getting interrupted, and I want to do this for you."

Patrick nods immediately, that same look on his face, that one that says, "Everything you do is a precious miracle," in the least saccharine way imaginable; the way you want someone you love to look at you. The unfathomable weight of all the love Patrick holds for David (all the love David holds in return) sits in that look, and it  _is_ precious, isn't it?

"You're not going to kneel, though, right?" Patrick asks. "Because I haven't gotten around to sweeping yet."

"Oh god no," David breathes. "No, standing is fine."

To be honest, he wasn't totally prepared for this. He was going to come up with something to say, there are drafts in one of his journals, but he's here now and (to be honest) it feels like the perfect time. After dark, the store feels small, like a clean, warm, well-decorated cave. The natural lighting is definitely worth it, but sometimes the huge windows make him feel almost on display (and maybe that feeling should only be worse when lit from within, but he doesn't think about that, only Patrick in front of him).

David realizes how long he's been quiet when Patrick raises his eyebrows at him. "Right, sorry, I don't..." He takes a breath, not as deep as he wanted. "This isn't... eloquent. I mean, I had a speech—really more like notes, a general outline—but that was for the public."

Patrick looks like he wants to make a joke about David's adoring public, but just the look gets everything across, and that alone makes David's voice a little stronger.

"But for you," David ducks in for a moment, a soft smile , "it's different. It's always different, for you." He leans back again to clear his throat, trying to summon the courage to hold eye contact for longer than a few seconds.

"I feel things, with you, that I didn't think were actually possible. I want things I never thought I would want. When I'm with you, I never want to be anywhere else; I don't want to run away, I'm not itching to just  _go_ somewhere, anywhere but where you are. I want to stand still and I want to tell you everything and I want you to see me—I _know_ , already, that you see me, and I want to show you more. I want you to see every part of me and I want to see you too, and I want to do that forever, basically, so."

David stops to catch his breath, the pause filled by Patrick's own wet laugh, and he feels like he's swallowed a fucking sunbeam or something equally obnoxious.

"I know we already had this conversation," he continues, gesturing with the ring in his hand in a comically futile way even as Patrick reaches up to cradle his head, "but Patrick Brewer, will you marry me?"

Patrick is crying, and nodding, and David is too. The nodding stops when their heads get even closer, but rather than kissing they stop, forehead to forehead, and rest for a moment.

"You know I love you, right?" Patrick breathes into what little air is between them. It's barely a question, but David answers anyway.

"I do, I know."

Halfway through Patrick grins even wider, at which point David realizes what he's said and has to wrestle back his own grin. He twists his head to press their mouths together, their smiles quickly melting enough to facilitate actual kissing. It's half proper romance kissing—like  _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ and _Casablanca_  awkward but better because it's them and they're good people—and half the most comfortable thing imaginable.

Too soon (and really, any time would be too soon) Patrick pulls away to ask, "Can I have the ring now?"

David pulls Patrick's left hand off his face without speaking and slides the ring onto his finger. This close there's no way to miss how Patrick reflexively exhales when the metal touches his skin and again when David lets go and he feels the weight of it fully.

This is the moment David was waiting for. The look on Patrick's face, no longer entirely happy but all the better for it. He stares at the ring with quiet awe, his eyes carrying nothing other than wonder, and when he looks back at David its with the same wonder.

After casually wiping the tears from his cheeks, David brings Patrick close enough again to kiss his forehead, his own rings cool against Patrick's cheek.

"So." He says when he retreats again. "Soap."

Patrick's loud, unselfconscious laugh follows David as he heads back to the boxes he'd been unpacking lifetimes ago. Moments later the man himself joins him at the table, standing at David's back and reaching around him to the box. Their hands meet more often than usual, rings clinking in the silence, looks over shoulders speaking louder than words

**Author's Note:**

> look I watched the proposal when it aired (we love a climactic scene of a show we don't watch) and I was fine, but then my mom said "hey wanna go to canada" and I said "sure" and when we got there my brain went "hey wanna use this canadian wifi and canadian hotel address to watch the rest of the show for free" and I said "sure" and here we fucking well are
> 
> this is half inspired by _frances ha_ , and her [one moment speech](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=94rtEPIifpc), which I accidentally thought abt looking at that bit in the grand opening where they do that, they have that, because that is your person in this life, your other dimension secret but out in public. the title also comes from that monologue
> 
> anyway ik I'm a little shaky on their voices (which is why pretty much only david talks as I identify WAY too hard w/ him) but I might try writing more! idk it's just such a satisfying show, I don't really feel the need to add anything, but also the dark corners of my mind won't stop chanting "cow belles 2006 au" as I try to sleep so we'll see lmao
> 
> tumblr @[lamphous](http://lamphous.tumblr.com)


End file.
